


ice queen

by allechant



Series: inamorata [6]
Category: Vocaloid
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:55:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25856995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allechant/pseuds/allechant
Summary: her heart was said to be encased in ice so cold that it burnt.
Relationships: Hatsune Miku/Kagamine Len
Series: inamorata [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1833109
Kudos: 7





	ice queen

He stood lost in the snow, a single, tiny black dot against the stark white landscape. He looked around him, staring up at the bleak sky. Where was he?

The powdery snow blew continuously into his face, and he narrowed his eyes, raising his hand to shield his face. It was freezing, and the penetrating chill seeped past his thin shirt, cutting deep to the bone. He wasn’t dressed for such punishing weather, and he wrapped his arms around himself, rubbing his exposed skin in a futile attempt to get warm.

He could barely feel his fingers. How did he end up in this situation? When he left the house this morning, intending to clear his head, he didn’t think he would wander this far. He simply wanted to take a quick walk outside, so he hadn’t bothered to put on his winter coat.

It was all her fault. When he was walking through the barren landscape, enjoying the crystal purity of the winter air, he saw what appeared to be a _girl_. A shadowy figure that flickered in and out of his line of sight, skipping and dancing through the snow, beckoning to him.

There was something mesmerising about the mysterious shadow, a compulsion that sank its claws into his mind and made him forget about everything else – without bothering to head home and put on something warmer, he chased after the figure, trying to get closer.

She led him further and further away from the village, and still, he followed her, unable to resist the mystery that shrouded her. He couldn't blame anyone but himself for his current predicament. Gritting his teeth against the cold, he surveyed the land around him.

Pure white stretched on for miles and miles, as far as the eye could see. He wondered where the nearest settlement was. At this moment, it felt like he was the only person left in the world – like everything else had been blanketed by the snow, leaving him behind.

Luka would worry about him.

The thought of his fiancée made him sigh – he was still immensely conflicted about their engagement. Their union had been arranged by their parents, and despite Luka’s beauty and their friendship, he didn't like the idea of his family deciding his future. Not like this.

He knew she was fond of him. But he wasn't sure if he returned her affections. Perhaps given a few years, the nature of their relationship might change – after all, love could be nurtured, right? He exhaled, watching his breath mist in the winter air.

How far had he walked? He was so cold. Would he be able to find his way home? The snow had covered his footsteps, and his thoughts were beginning to slow – if he didn't find shelter soon, he might freeze to death. Everything was numb – his lips, his fingers, his face.

He opened his mouth, trying to speak, but no sound came out. _I’ll die at this rate_. But he was not going to give in just like that – slowly, he took another step forward, hopefully in the right direction. As he trudged through the drifts of snow, his mind turned blank, settling back into the familiar rhythm of travel. Left foot forward, then right foot. Left foot again.

 _Are you lost?_ He swore he could hear the wind speak as it whistled past him, and he strained his ears, trying to listen – but there was no more of that breathy whisper, and his heart sank. Of course. He had been imagining things. Why would anyone be out here in this cold?

The wind seemed to mock him with its restlessness, mock the sudden spark of hope that had leapt forth in his chest. It felt like slender fingers brushing against his cheeks, sending stabs of frost and chill into his skin. He tried to disregard the pain of the cold, trudging away from the vicinity – if he stopped moving, he would close his eyes and collapse where he stood.

His eyelids were so heavy. It would be so much easier to just give in and sleep. But if he did that now, he’d never open his eyes again.

 _Are you lost?_ He heard the voice once more, and again he tried to ignore it. That voice was nothing more than a hallucination – there could be no one here but him and the forces of nature. But then the already cold air seemed to drop a few degrees, and he shivered with renewed vigour, thinking that he could _feel_ winter’s embrace enveloping him in its icy cocoon.

And winter felt surprisingly soft. “Are you lost?” The voice spoke the third time; this time he stopped in his tracks, glancing over his shoulder as chilly arms tightened around him.

A slender girl was staring back at him, hugging him from behind. Her long teal hair floated in the freezing wind, and her touch – it was like ice, but _softer_ , seeping past his thin clothes and threatening to drag him into a dreamless sleep. He blinked.

“Yes. I’m lost.” He heard himself speak, his teeth chattering, and the girl nodded.

“I can get you away from here,” she answered. “I can get you someplace warm. Would you like to come with me?” Her green eyes shimmered, filled with unreadable intention.

He ought to be more suspicious, but he was desperate, and the thought of warmth meant everything to him right now. “Who are you?” he asked. And what did she want from him?

“That’s not important. What’s important now is getting you out of here. You can ask me all the questions you’d like later.” Her gaze met his, and he was unable to look away. “Will you come with me?” There was a ring of finality in her voice; he nodded, and the air in his lungs burned.

She released him from her embrace, walking over to face him – though he thought she might be floating instead, her feet barely seeming to skim the snow. She brushed a freezing finger against his lips and part of his mind noticed just how _beautiful_ she was, how she radiated an icy, pristine perfection, not unlike that of winter itself – then suddenly, she pulled on his arm and the next thing he knew, he was no longer trapped in the middle of a snowstorm.

The blank white landscape was gone. Instead, he was now in what seemed to be a large hall of some sort – the girl who had rescued him was sitting upon an ornate throne, staring down at him. She regarded him curiously, and he wondered what she might want to do with him.

Who was this girl? Now that he was finally surrounded by warmth, it was becoming easier to think, to pick up on things he hadn’t noticed before. She was dressed in clothes thinner than even his, and he recalled her wearing this very same outfit when they were outside. Her white dress and those fingerless gloves surely offered little protection against the chill.

“What’s your name?” she asked. He thought about whether or not he should tell her the truth, but then again she _had_ saved him from a slow, lingering death. Maybe he should be honest, even if he didn’t know a single thing about her.

“My name is Kagamine Len.” He paused, meeting her gaze – she cocked her head but didn’t say anything. “And may I have the honour of knowing my saviour’s identity?”

He had no doubt that she wasn’t human. No human could have spirited him away like that. It was more likely that she was one of the servants of Old Man Winter – but then, a mere servant wouldn’t have a throne of her own, would she? So, who on earth could she possibly be?

Winter spirits were notoriously capricious. He didn’t understand why one of them would be willing to help him. The villagers often swapped stories about the servants of winter, about how they could one day be kind and benevolent, and wreak havoc and destruction on the next. Their intentions were as unpredictable as winter itself, and that made them dangerous.

It was said that more than one villager had been lured away by winter spirits to die a bitter, lonely death in the wilderness. This was the first time he’d ever laid eyes upon one of their brethren. He didn’t expect them to look so… _human_. It was rather unnerving.

Something in her expression shifted at his question. When she next spoke, her voice was cold and clear. “I am the Ice Queen,” she answered, placing her hands on the throne’s armrests. “The only daughter of Old Man Winter and the twin sister of Jack Frost.”

His eyes widened, and hastily he bowed his head, his heart thudding in his chest. The Ice Queen was real? Legend said that she was a maiden of astounding beauty – that any man who saw her face would desire her, for she embodied the icy perfection of snow itself. She was a manifestation of winter’s allure, of how beautiful and deadly the chill could be.

The stories seemed to be true, for the longer he looked at her, the more startlingly beautiful she became. Her face was mesmerising. Eyes the same colour as hellebore leaves, skin pale enough to blend right into the snow. Her gaze was distant, her expression unreadable, and he was reminded of a second part to the story. About how the Ice Queen was named not for the season she represented, but rather her frigid heart – said to be untouched by the warmth of passion, encased in ice so cold that it burnt.

She sighed. “Please raise your head. I’m tired of people prostrating themselves before me. I have enough worshippers in the Court of Winter as it is.” He looked up and saw that she was studying him, something almost like interest in her eyes. “What were you doing? No mortal could have withstood such temperatures dressed in so little. Do you have a death wish?”

“I was…following someone,” he admitted. Her gaze seared right through him. He found it strange that someone who represented winter would have such vibrant green eyes. “There was a figure dancing in the snow, and I couldn’t help but want to chase after them. To try and get closer. Maybe it was one of your winter spirits.”

“Oh.” She paused. “That was me,” she finally said, and he thought he detected a hint of guilt in her voice. “I usually try to ensure that no humans will see me when I dance, but I must have been careless today.” There was a long, drawn-out pause, and he shuffled his feet against the carpet, feeling somewhat uncomfortable. Should he try to continue the conversation?

But then she cleared her throat. “My name is Hatsune Miku. In exchange for my mistake, I will grant you one wish – simply call my name and I will come to you. Keep this in mind.”

He blinked, surprised by her generosity. “I thank you for your kindness, Your Majesty. Though just getting me out of that predicament would have been sufficient.” He was wary of the wish she offered. Winter spirits were sly and tricky, and more often than not they granted people’s wishes in ways that made them regret even asking in the first place.

She waved his words away. “No, it was my mistake, and humans have such simple desires. I’d prefer not to feel indebted to you.” She crossed her legs. “I would like to send you home, but it is getting late and there are other duties I must attend to. Would you be willing to wait until tomorrow morning before I send you on your way?”

“I am pleased that you even thought about sending me home, Your Majesty.” He lowered his gaze. “I am willing to wait until tomorrow. Your duties are surely more important than I am.”

She laughed. It sounded like the tinkling of glass, clear and piercing. “You are well-spoken. My brother would do well to learn some manners from you.”

“You flatter me, Your Majesty.” He hesitated for a moment, then raised his gaze to meet hers. “Is there anything you would like me to do while we wait for morning to come?”

“Oh, nothing much. Just stay out of our way and let us go about our usual affairs. That’s all I ask of you.” She glanced at the ceiling. “Night has fallen. During winter, the nights are long and the days are short. Mortals should stay indoors once the darkness arrives.”

“That’s much easier said than done,” he murmured, and if she heard him, she did nothing to indicate that. She clapped her hands, and moments later a man appeared in the hall, having popped out from nowhere – he stared at the newcomer, startled by his sudden appearance.

The man had hair the colour of a spring meadow and eyes just like Miku’s. Was it a running theme among winter spirits to look like the complete opposite of their season? “Gumo,” the Ice Queen spoke. “We have a human guest tonight. Make the necessary arrangements.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Gumo bowed, then looked at him, his expression curious. “Please follow me, sir,” he said before turning around and walking out of the room. Len hurried to keep up with him, though he glanced over his shoulder as he left – the Ice Queen continued to sit on her throne, a pensive look on her face.

Why did she decide to save him? She wasn’t human; she could have so easily left him to die. Perhaps the sight of his mortality amused her – that would certainly align with the reputation of the winter spirits. Yet he didn’t think she was a malicious person. Would someone evil tell him that she owed him for causing him harm? Her behaviour was confusing.

Maybe there was a tiny kernel of compassion nestling deep within that frozen heart of hers. Whatever her reasons were, he was grateful for her help. It was a relief to be told that the mysterious figure he had been chasing wasn’t a figment of his imagination, after all.

* * *

Miku heaved a sigh. Again, she stared at the ceiling of the throne room, thinking about the mortal she had brought into her abode.

It was her fault that he was stuck in this predicament. She shouldn’t have been so careless. It was bad enough that Mikuo’s subjects liked to torment humans and their fragile bodies. She wanted no part to play in the anguish of mortals. That was her brother’s job, not hers.

She was supposed to be beautiful. She was the snow that fell gently on trees and roofs, the crystalline beauty of a snowflake as it settled over the landscape, blanketing everything in pure white. She was not supposed to hurt people. She wasn’t supposed to be…frightening.

Kagamine Len. That mortal. Did he fear her? She thought she saw the glint of wariness in his eyes, and that made her feel _strange_. No one had been so cautious around her before. Even the spirits who didn’t belong to her court – though they fell to their knees in adoration before her, they never showed any signs of fear. Knowing this made something twinge in her chest.

Would the wish she promised be enough to compensate for her actions? She couldn’t be sure, but there was little else she could offer. She was royalty among the seasonal spirits, and rarely did they appear in front of humans – if she spent too much time around a mortal, her father would surely question her. She didn’t feel like explaining herself to him.

Her thoughts drifted back to Len. She couldn’t seem to stop herself from thinking about him. It was fascinating, how different he was from her – he was soft and warm where she was brittle and cold. His blond hair reminded her of the blinding radiance of the summer spirits, and his eyes were the colour of the ocean during a warm, balmy day. He was the complete opposite of her, and that made her almost wistful. She hadn’t seen summer in a long, long time.

Once upon a time, she had been in love with summer. But that was centuries ago. Back when she and her twin brother were still human; back when she could bask in the warmth of the sun. Until one day, when she and Mikuo got caught in a raging blizzard, far away from home – Old Man Winter himself appeared and gave them a choice, and they decided to grasp this chance at survival. To continue existing, even if they had to give up their humanity to do so.

The Ice Queen, that was what humans knew her as. The impeccable queen of ice and snow, daughter of Old Man Winter. To see her was to desire her, her visage freezing itself into the hearts of hapless men. Legend it might be, but like all stories, there was a hint of truth to it.

She had yet to find someone who could resist her beauty, and that frustrated her. She wished she could find someone who was able to look past her face into the loneliness hiding deep within her smile, but everyone was transfixed by what they could see. After a while, she became used to keeping everyone at a distance, save for a handful of loyal subjects.

Most stories claimed she was unable to love, that the iciness of winter had spread through her heart, leaving her incapable of any warmth. But that wasn’t true. She was cursed to love those she could not have – mortals, with their fragile constitutions and their susceptibility to the cold. They lived and died as easily as snowflakes melting in the morning sun, and once too often she had to mourn the death of a lover who perished from their proximity to her.

It was better that they believed she didn’t love. Better that humans didn’t attempt to search for her because she didn’t want anyone else to die at her hands.

But this boy. This mortal she had unwittingly lured into the wilderness of winter – he did not seem particularly affected by her beauty, and she wondered if he was immune to the effects of gazing upon her. She wondered if she’d end up falling for him – in hindsight, she should never have rescued him, but the thought of abandoning him to the cold sent a prick of guilt through her chest. She was distant, but she wasn’t heartless.

Anyway, what was done was done. She had shown her hand and now she had to live with the consequences of her actions. Lost in thought, she barely noticed when Gumo reappeared in the throne room, a distinct gleam in his green eyes. “Your Majesty, I’ve done as you ordered. The human is resting in the chamber beside yours, and I’ve given him a potion that will temporarily help to counteract the effects of your chill. Is there anything else you’d like me to do?”

Gumo was one of her most favoured followers, unwavering in his loyalty and protective of his queen. She appreciated his concern for her and the way he would carry out her commands without any hesitation. There was little more she could want from a butler.

“I believe everything is fine for now.” Gumo nodded, and he turned, preparing to walk away – but then suddenly he paused and looked back at her, a flicker of hesitation visible in his gaze. “Is there something wrong?” she asked. An unnecessary question, but without coaxing Gumo would not speak whatever was on his mind, and it seemed like this might be important.

“Is this wise, Your Majesty?” he asked. “It’s been centuries, yet the curse and its outcomes have never changed. Once you speak to a mortal man you are doomed to eventually fall for him, and always, it breaks your heart. A cruel thing to undergo for the sake of our people.”

Old Man Winter had implemented this spell so that every time she mourned a lover, the chill of winter grew stronger – the more pain she felt, the longer winter lasted. The last time a mortal died in her arms, the snow refused to relent for ten years, and the humans suffered.

“He doesn’t seem susceptible to my beauty.” It was the first time she’d seen a human answer her so calmly. “If he doesn’t fall for me, then perhaps my father’s curse will not take effect.”

Gumo didn’t look entirely convinced, but he nodded anyway. “As you wish, Your Majesty. For now, I’d like to take my leave – some urgent affairs call for my attention.”

“Of course. You’re dismissed, Gumo.” He bowed his head and disappeared, and she was left alone in the throne room, her mind still swirling with thoughts. It had been a long time since she last felt this uncertain, and that was not a feeling she welcomed.

Why should she worry? He wasn’t going to stay here for long, anyway. He’d be on his way as soon as the sun rose, and she would never have to think about him again. As the Ice Queen, she had far more important things to do than to worry about the feelings of a human.

* * *

He felt slender arms sliding around his waist, and he stiffened – it was a soft touch, hesitant and questioning, but there was something vaguely off-putting about it. Then he realised.

Her skin was cold. Much too cold to be Luka. “You’re a mortal, aren’t you?” she breathed, and he could smell the scent of winter roses – sweet, lovely, mournful. Flowers that bloomed only in the darkness, thriving in the chilly winds brought on by autumn’s end.

“Did I give you a reason to think otherwise?” he asked. She laughed, and her arms tightened around him before one of her hands reached up, cupping his cheek.

“You’re a strange one, Kagamine Len.” She paused. “It’s the first time anyone has seen my face and not fallen in love. Perhaps there’s a hint of spirit blood in you, somewhere.”

“You think too highly of me, Your Majesty.” Spirit blood? He doubted it. And as for falling in love with her…he wasn’t sure what that entailed. What was love supposed to feel like?

“Just call me Miku. You’re not one of my subjects; there’s no need to be formal with me.” She let go of him and he glanced back, meeting her gaze – she had put some distance between them, and now she was studying him, the glimmer of curiosity in her eyes. “Is this the first time you’ve seen a nature spirit? You don’t seem too surprised about your situation.”

He shrugged. “I’ve heard stories. I wasn’t sure if I believed in them at first, but I guess there’s no point in denying your existence now.” He turned around, his feet crunching in the snow. Though everything was blanketed by white, strangely enough, he didn’t feel cold. “I’d like to know too – why were you so near my village? I thought your people avoided humans.”

“Hmm.” She didn’t answer immediately, her gaze flicking away from him, fixed on something in the distance. “I got carried away. I tend to avoid people, that’s true, but sometimes I forget to pay attention to my surroundings. My brother can be fickle. I go where he leads me.”

“Your brother?” Jack Frost, Spirit of Winter. She nodded, a small smile crossing her lips at the mention of her sibling. “He’s a cruel one, I hear. More vicious than even Old Man Winter.”

“He means no harm.” She frowned. “Well, usually he doesn’t. But it’s easy for us to forget just how fragile you mortals are. Sometimes we want to play a little, but…things don’t always turn out the way we hoped.” She fell silent, and he decided not to probe – there was a strange tension in the air that was beginning to make him restless.

“What are you doing here?” he asked instead, looking around him for the first time since he opened his eyes. He was certain he was dreaming – his clothes were too thin for him to feel comfortable in this weather. Did winter spirits have the ability to meddle in dreams?

“I wanted to find out more about you. You’re my guest,” she said, cocking her head. “And it has been some time since I last heard any news about the human world.”

“Why would you care?” he asked, and he thought that for a moment, her face fell – but then she smiled and he was left thinking he had imagined the disappointment in her eyes.

“I used to be human, you know. Once upon a time.” She sighed. Her breath crystallised in front of her face, turning into tiny snowflakes that fell gently onto the ground. “The stories always miss that out. Once upon a time, I was just like you. Afraid of death. Afraid to die.”

His curiosity was piqued. “Then what happened?”

“Mikuo – oh, that’s Jack Frost to you – and I were trapped in a blizzard when we ventured out to forage for food. Back then, people all fended for themselves. My brother and I could only rely on each other for survival.” Her voice was still soft and gentle, but there was a coldness to her gaze that he found oddly mesmerising. “We were desperate to live. Tell me, do you know what it’s like to feel your life’s flame flicker? To steadily drag your feet towards Death’s door?”

“I thought I was on my way there too,” he admitted, and she laughed again. It was the sound of icicles tinkling, sharp and piercing. He winced. “But you didn’t die, in the end?”

She shook her head. “We did, in a way. Our mortal bodies passed. But Old Man Winter gave us a choice – to carry on into the unknown or to become his servants, his children of winter. We picked the cowardly option.” A sudden breeze had picked up, and he could feel the gentle touch of snowflakes landing upon him – they lingered on his skin, refusing to melt, and when he looked down at his hands, he thought they looked almost…translucent.

But when he blinked, his hands had gone back to normal. “I think anyone else would have made the same choice if they were faced with death as an alternative.”

“It might have been easier to die.” She gave him a dazzling smile, brighter than the sunlit snow. “I love humans, you know. You’re all so precious to me. Such transient beings.”

“What do you want from us? What can humans offer you?” He couldn’t quite wrap his head around it – if she used to be a human, then why did she and the winter spirits lure people to their deaths? If she loved humans, then surely there was no need to treat them so cruelly.

“Humans are interesting. Your fragility, your mortality – your continuous struggle to survive in the face of the unknown.” She tapped a finger against her bottom lip, looking thoughtful. “I have forgotten what it’s like to live against all odds. In a way, I failed at being human.” Her smile was wry. “But don’t worry, I hold no grudge against your kind.”

“I didn’t think you did,” he said. “I was just trying to understand why you would rescue me.”

“I saved you simply because it was the right thing to do. I am not as heartless as your stories would have you believe.” Her smile faded. “Sometimes, I think I feel too much.”

“So…you’re not heartless?” That was the very opposite of what the legends claimed. Maybe the rest of the stories were also false. “Then are you truly incapable of feeling love?”

“It would be a sad existence to be incapable of affection.” She sighed. “But I try not to accept the pursuits of my mortal suitors. They do not understand the concept of eternity – for them, the promise of forever cannot outlast death itself, while I am unchanging and eternal. Always young, always beautiful, while my lovers wither away into dust and bone.” She glanced at him. “I fall for your kind too easily. And that is a sad, cruel thing.”

What _was_ love? Would she be able to tell him? When he looked at her, he could feel _something_ in his chest – an unfamiliar emotion that he couldn’t quite identify. It felt difficult to breathe, as though someone had wrapped their fingers around his throbbing heart and sunk their claws into his tender flesh. “What _is_ love, even?” he asked aloud, and she exhaled.

Something about her expression was wistful. Almost sad. “Love is both terrible and beautiful. People have been driven to great lengths for the sake of affection – it’s the feeling you get when you look at someone and realise that your heart belongs to them. They hold it in their hands, capable of ripping it out of your chest with little more than a whisper or a smile.”

That sounded uncomfortably like what he was experiencing right now, and he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. “Why would anyone want to go through something like that?”

Her lips quirked up. “Because once you can let go of your feelings of self-preservation, you realise how much easier it is to just let your head sink below the water. You need not fear love the way you fear death, for death is eternal. And unfortunately, love usually is not.” Her gaze softened. “Sometimes going with the flow is easier than living. Love makes us lose our rationality, and when you lose sight of the constraints of logic, that’s when you’re truly _free_.”

He thought over this for a while. “So, if let’s say I believe I might have fallen in love with you – there’s nothing wrong with that, is there?”

Was there any other way to describe this strange feeling in his gut?

“You think you’re in love?” She didn’t sound surprised. Maybe a tad disappointed, though he might be reading too much into her tone. “That wouldn’t be the first time. I will warn you that it’s an impossible love, a doomed romance. You will die long, long before I do.”

“I’m not sure if I _am_ in love,” he answered, his words cautious. “I just don’t know how else I can describe these emotions I feel. Listening to you makes my chest hurt.” He paused. “It’s neither pleasant nor unpleasant. It’s just…odd. And it makes me want to find out more about it.”

For a few seconds, there was nothing but silence, and he studied her, trying to guess what she was thinking. Finally, she smiled. “How curious. I must say that you are fascinating to think about. Such questions you ask.” She paused. “We can continue this another day.”

Before he could say anything, she clapped her hands and Len found himself gasping, his lungs burning as he struggled for air – then his eyes flicked open and he saw a familiar ceiling, felt the worn-out mattress of his bed, nothing like the luxurious room he stayed in while at the Ice Queen’s residence. She must have sent him back to his house.

If she could send him home with a mere clap of her hands, why didn’t she simply do so last night? He frowned, clambering off the bed – well, it was beyond him to try and understand her whims and fancies. The Ice Queen’s voice lingered in his mind, and he shook his head.

 _We can continue this another day_. Did she want him to search for her? He didn’t even know where to begin. The thought of venturing into the wilderness again made him shudder.

His parents must be worried. He wondered if they were at home.

Deciding to go downstairs, he kept his steps light and silent, hoping not to rouse anyone if they were all asleep. His parents were not downstairs, but he _did_ see a familiar head of pink hair in the kitchen. Luka was sitting alone at the kitchen table, wringing her hands, and when he paused at the doorway and cleared his throat, she all but leapt out of her chair.

He wasn’t in the least bit surprised that Luka was waiting for him. But what _did_ surprise him was the sheer depth of her emotions, the way tears swam in her cerulean eyes, the way she stared at him with worry etched upon her face. “I thought you died!” she cried, and without thinking he placed his hand on the back of her head, stroking her hair, trying to comfort.

This was the girl he was supposed to marry. His fiancée. But when he thought about what the Ice Queen – what Miku had said to him – he didn’t think he felt anything like romantic love for her. Luka was warmth and comfort and the familiarity of an old home, but she wasn’t… _love_.

“I’m sorry. I got lost in the snow,” he admitted. She paused, then withdrew and looked at him, her brow furrowing. “One of the winter spirits took me in and sent me home in the morning.”

“I…see.” Luka didn’t sound quite convinced, but he met her gaze squarely – he was speaking the truth, whether she believed him or not. “I guess it doesn’t matter, so long as you’re back safe.” She smiled at him, and instinctively his lips curved up, mirroring her expression.

He ought to feel satisfied that he was home. That he had survived a blizzard without falling to the wintry winds. But curiosity coiled in his gut – even as he returned Luka’s hug, he couldn’t help but think about Miku. About her bright green eyes the colour of summer, her quiet and unflinching grace, the way her lips quirked up when he asked about love and what it entailed.

Glancing past Luka’s shoulder, he gazed at the winter landscape outside, wondering where the Ice Queen was now. Wondering if he would be able to see her again.

**Author's Note:**

> i fully intend to singlehandedly fill ao3 with lenku fic, i did it once on ffn and i can do it again
> 
> follow me on [twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/dontenchantme)


End file.
